


What Do You Mean, Cook?!

by Lord Angelcake (EuterpesChild)



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 06:10:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8193208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EuterpesChild/pseuds/Lord%20Angelcake
Summary: Originally written in 2014. Cute domestic fluff I guess? Apparently the characters are angels as well.





	

I come home to find you standing at the stove of our new apartment, wearing an apron, holding a spatula and a box of rice, with an expression of utter confusion on your face. I choke down my laughter as I kick off my shoes, then slide into the kitchen to tickle your face with my wings, announcing my arrival. You jump and turn quickly, throwing down the spatula carelessly in order to hug me properly. There are suspicious white flecks on your wings that look like flour, even though I'm sure you haven't made any sort of food yet. "What exactly are you doing?" I ask, still trying not to laugh. You blush and hold up the box of steam-in-bag rice with a helpless expression. "Cooking?" You say, sounding equally helpless. I finally give in to my laughter and reach for the box. "Give me that," I say.

 

About 5 minutes later, I'm standing in roughly the same position as you had been in when I got home. This time, however, you're standing next to me and there's a pot full of water on the stove. "I thought you said you knew how to do this," you say, almost argumentatively. "I thought I did too!" I reply, my voice cracking slightly. "Oh god we're fucked." You sit down on the floor and start laughing. Somehow in the week and a half that we'd been in this apartment we'd managed to not try cooking yet, which made this experiment even worse. I stare at the back of the rice box once more, searching for anything that could help us actually eat dinner. I'm about to give up when I spot instructions on the side of the box. I crow happily and tear open the package, then proceed to smack myself in the forehead several times for my stupidity. You reach into the freezer and take out a package of meatballs, which we also spend several minutes staring at before deciphering what we need to do. 

 

We finally sit down to a tiny dinner of rice, meatballs, and a few carrots that you dug out of who-knows-where. It's not exactly a 5-star dinner, but it's food, and it's our first meal together that we made in our home.


End file.
